





My Lady of Dream 




LLOYD MIFFLIN 










Class TS2^ 

BookJl2 

Copyright N° 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT: 



MY 
LADY OF DREAM 



BY 

LLOYD MIFFLIN 



Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse, 
While the whole world seems adverse to desert. 

— WORDSWORTH 



HENRY FROWDE 

LONDON: 
AMERICAN BRANCH 

New York, 91-93 Fifth Avenue 
1906 






<2,<\\ 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
1 wo Gooies Received 
MAY 23 1906 
Copy rigut Entry 




No, 



COPYRIGHT. I906, 
BY LLOYD MIFFLIN 



All rights reserved 



Plates by Rose Valley Press 
Presmoark by Wickeraham Co., Lancaster, Pa., V. S. A. 



PREFATORY 

In these poems, called "My Lady Of 
Dream ", / have sought to apostrophize in 
an elusive way that Spirit which has ever 
been very dear to me and at whose feet I 
have offered many years of my life. 

L. M. 

NORWOOD, 
Novtmbtr IS, IQO4. 



THE LIBATION 

All honor to the Maid divine! 
Deep homage doth to her belong 
Who points the pathway to my goal ; 
For her I spill no mortal wine, 
But from the chalice of my soul 
I pour the cenomel of Song! 



CONTENTS 

The Reader is Importuned l 

The Lover describes his Beloved 3 

"O Lovely thy Feet" 5 

He Begs for her Favor 7 

The Lover Protests 9 

The Sweetness of his Beloved 10 

The Lips of his Beloved 12 

He Invokes her Presence 13 

His Source of Light 14 

"Soul of the Dusk" 15 

"Thy Voice in the Valley" 17 

Alone in December Paths 19 

He Follows her Light 21 

"Crush thy Handful of Roses" 22 

"Canst thou for this Atone" 23 

"O Leave thy flaming Harp Inviolate" ... 25 



His Lady eludes his Pursuit 27 

"Speak softly, Beloved" 29 

He Returns after Absence . 30 

The Tryst with his Love . 31 

"What shall Atone" 32 

"Sadly she sits upon her dazzling Throne" . . 34 

"Come let us lie on the Hills" 36 

He tells when her Spirit is Fairest 38 

"Lo, thou sittest Enthroned" 39 

"Angel of Peace!" 41 

"The million Lilies of Gold" 43 

A last Word to the Lady of his Love .... 45 

At thy dear Feet 46 

"And when at last the Portals loom" .... 48 

Her Lover defies the Raven-black Steeds ... 50 

"Beseech me no more" 52 

"Imperial Inventress" 54 

"I feel thy Spirit call me" . 56 

"Come nearer, my Beloved" 57 



THE READER IS IMPORTUNED 

Warily tread o'er the delicate bridge 

of dreams 
Builded in silence from tremulous cobweb 

and mist, 
Warily over the chasm of cloud and of 

streams 
High on the vapory arches of amethyst ; 
Shake off the dust of the world and the 

care that clings; 
Gird on the sandals that give to the feet 

their wings ; 
Airily, pray you, airily spirit along ; 
1 



Thin is the fabric and wove of the veriest 

film of song, — 
Wavers, and sways, and is not what 

it seems, — 
Warily, warily over the Bridge of Dreams. 



THE LOVER DESCRIBES HIS 
BELOVED 

A rose she is, most passing fair, 

That makes more sweet the summer air 

For one day only ; 
A solitary cloud at noon, 
That melting in the dome of June, 

Leaves the blue lonely: 

A bird at dawn that upward flies 
And falls from out the scarlet skies 

Of Eldorado ; 
A murmuring shell upon the shore 
3 



Swirled sudden down beneath the roar 
To realms of shadow: 

A sumptuous moth, in autumn hours, 
A-flutter o'er ephemeral flowers , 

In vain endeavor; 
A firefly in the fields of even, 
That lights a little space of heaven, 

Then fades for ever. 



"O LOVELY THY FEET" 

O lovely thy feet shod with sandals 
resounding ; 

silver the echo o'er mountain and 

valley 
Far over the hills of the morning! 

1 follow the print that thy sandals 

are making ; 
I follow the sound of thy footsteps 

arising 
Far over the hills of the morning. 

O help me to mount from the earth to 
the ether; 



Like thee, let me rise to the regions 

celestial 
Away on the wings of the morning! 



HE BEGS FOR HER FAVOR 

Lo, I stoop and embrace thy sweet knees, 
And my face which is white with desire 

low is laid in thy lap. 
Take thy hands, O Beloved, lay them faint 

on my neck, 
And thy lips, bend them down and breathe 

tremulous words, giving comfort and love ; 
Soothe thy lover with hope of thyself; 
With the rose of thy beauty decoy him to 

thee ; 
With thy spirit encurtain us round as the 

gloaming envelopes the vale. 
7 



I am sick of deceit; of the hardness of 
hearts ; of the absence of love. 

Lo, I bury my face in the lily — thy lap ; 

Leave me not; take thy hands, O Beloved, 
lay them faint on my neck, soothe 
and solace with tremulous words. 



THE LOVER PROTESTS 

At eve about the wooded hills I roam ; 

Devious the ways I tread, and far from home 
I care not, Sweet, how wide the winding be — 

Love curves the path and circles back to thee. 



THE SWEETNESS OF HIS 
BELOVED 

Dull life were then indeed worth while, 
Bathed in the languor of her smile. 

Enough it were to soothe despair — 
To touch, in dreams, her twilight hair. 

'Twere worth the wisdom of the wise 
To live upon her dream-dim eyes. 

Famished, to muse upon her mouth 
Were gushing wells in lands of drouth. 
10 



To hope to touch her virgin lips 
Whirls the calm brain in wild eclipse ; 

But on her heart to draw one's breath- 
Such bliss would poniard one to death ! 



11 



THE LIPS OF HIS BELOVED 

Fragrance and balm of ethereal isles ; 

Perfume exhaled from the gates of the day; 

Languorous zephyrs all heavy with song 
As winds that have lingered in lyres of love ; 

Raptures as keen as the skylark's aloft 
When fading to poesy far in the cloud ; 

Passion and pathos and mystery deep ; 
Solace, and spur to the spirit of light: 

For these, lo, I spill all my soul 
On the sweetness that lies in the rose of 
her mouth. 



12 



HE INVOKES HER PRESENCE 

Out of the glory Aurora will lend her; 

Up from the diamond dew of the lea ; 
Down from the sunset of sumptuous splendor, 

Delicate Spirit, hither to me ! 

Out of the caverns of lightning and thunder ; 

Up from the glimmering green of the sea; 
Down from the stars with their fathomless wonder, 

Delicate Spirit, hither to me ! 

Up from the dark of Death's Lethean portal ; 

Out of the regions where Life and Love be ; 
Down from the flaming-winged Seraphs immortal, 

Delicate Spirit, hither to me ! 

13 



HIS SOURCE OF LIGHT 

I'm like the gray cloud just above 

The dawn ere day 's begun, 
And thou my source of light, my Love, 

Thou art my morning sun. 
Pale am I till I feel thy beam, 

Till life thy light bestows, 
And then a golden cloud I seem 

Bathed in celestial rose. 



14 



"SOUL OF THE DUSK" 

Delicate Sprite ! Thou fair elusive maid, 

Poised in thy grace above the hill-top low; 
Soul of the dusk above the valley shade, 

Seen in the after-glow, 
Sink softly down within the woods afar, 

Lily the upland with thy presence sweet, 
Nestle amid the fern, e'en as a star, 

To guide me to thy feet. 

To thy pure self, as to some holy shrine, 

I, who in Love's dear ways was sorely crossed, 

Come with cooled lips to touch thy brow divine, 
No longer passion-tossed. 

15 



O Spirit of that thin and finer air 

That lights the summits which to thee belong, 
Raise me to regions infinitely fair 

That tremble into song. 

Leave me not yet within the lonely woods ; 

Linger, a radiance o'er the laureled gloom ; 
O lift me to supernal altitudes 

Of amaranthine bloom ! 

Slowly she fadeth from my yearning sight, 
Yet in my soul her presence do I greet: 

Adieu, dark vale, I camp upon the height — 
I, who would kiss her feet. 



16 



"THY VOICE IN THE VALLEY" 

Thy voice in the valley at evening is sweetness 

unheard of. 
I hear not the coo of the dove when thou 

speakest ; 
E'en the lay of the mavis is discord ; 
All the throats of the woodland are silenced ; 
Thou drawest thy honey from fabulous flowers 

of feeling. 
Thy limbs are as smooth as the limbs of the 

white birch in winter; 
The lace of thy garments is fine as the bloom 

of wild parsnip, or dew-spangled cobweb 

in meadows of morn ; 

17 



Thy breasts are as fair as the blossoms of elder 

in shadowy places ; 
Thine eyes — like the eyes of the oxen of Ind ; 
Thy breath is a wafture from beds of tea-roses 

in gardens of silence : 
Thou hast stolen my soul ; thou hast ravished 

my senses ; 
Lo, I faint in thine arms, o'ercome by thy 

sweetness ! 



18 



ALONE IN DECEMBER PATHS 

Along the slopes of grasses gray 

Against the windy hill 
The slender beeches gently sway 

Leafless, above the mill ; 
And silent up the dreary shores 

Denuded now, I trace 
The white masts of the sycamores 

At anchor by the race. 

Above the windy thicket high 

Circle the cawing crows, 
And round the barren foot-path sigh 

The briers of the rose : 
19 



O leaden clouds that frown above 
Soon would you disappear 

If but the maiden of my love 
Were strolling with me here. 

Oh, tell her that I only seek 

Herself in earth and skies — 
The lilied garden of her cheek, 

The April of her eyes: 
Far o'er the windy thicket high 

Circle the cawing crows, 
And round the barren foot-path sigh 

The briers of the rose. 



20 



HE FOLLOWS HER LIGHT 

Howl on, ye winter midnight wind! 

Stab, javelins of the sleet! 
But I have set my constant mind 

To nestle at her feet. 

Oh, while the waves in furious glee 

Wreck the unbeaconed bark, 
Though blinded, love would make me see 

Her candle through the dark! 

Eager, I dare the blizzard's might: 

Joyous, I face the snow, 
For on her breast I rest to-night — 

Then let the tempest blow! 

21 



"CRUSH THY HANDFUL OF ROSES'' 

Crush thy handful of roses against my pale 
lips, paled with song and with care ; 

And smother mine eyes with their odorous 
petals 

Lest I, looking up, behold all thy beauty, 
O fairest of fair ! 

Withdraw to the heart of thy cloud, and curtain 
thy loveliness off from my sight 

Lest I, being mortal, and seeing too near 
me thy beauty, 

Should die of deep yearning and hopeless 
delight. 

22 



"CANST THOU FOR THIS ATONE" 

My life was in its Autumn, as I lay- 
Dreaming upon an upland o'er the sea. 
Lonely I was as Lydian Niobe 

When all her pearls Apollo took away. 

Then came a beauteous woman fair as day, 
Who gave herself and all her love to me; 
Anon sweet children clambered round my knee 

Eager for kisses,— and the time seemed May. 

These children's children came, and 1 was grown 
Aged and worn, but still on them I smiled 
For love of them and of the mother mild. 

Sudden I woke— childless, forlorn, alone . . . 

23 



O Poesy ! canst thou for this atone ? — 

Thou who hast reft me thus of wife and child ? 



24 



« O LEAVE THY FLAMING HARP 
INVIOLATE" 

O leave thy flaming harp inviolate on the 

height ; 
Undo thy sandals made of music and of 

song; 
Lo I, thy lover, in the vale have waited 

long, 
Descend and star the darkness, my Delight! 

Thy breath is sweet as blossoming grape-vine 

in the dell, 
Or as fragrance borne from locust-trees 

abloom ; 

25 



Breathe on me, radiant Spirit, and aureole 

the gloom, 
Touch the lyre of my heart — the prose of 

life dispel. 

Teach me to use the plectrum that loves thy 

fingers lithe; 
My time is brief, — around me hover Shades 

and shadowy Things ; 
I hear the hoofs of pallor, — the wind and 

whirl of wings, — 
The roaring in the darkness of the fateful 

scythe. 



26 



HIS LADY ELUDES HIS PURSUIT 

When the Horses of the Morning with their 
rose-colored wings lifted high, 

Come with lyre-like music far-echoing down the 
flushed pearly lanes, 

Beating with eager hoofs new splendor from the 
waste of crimson sky, 

Dazzling the charioteer with flare of backward- 
flowing manes; 

When the Winds from twilight caverns of the 
Dawn arise, 

Stretching their languorous arms, loosening the 
fillets of their fragrant hair, 
27 



Drowsed with the thought of night in troublous 

deeps of dream-lit eyes, 
Awake to wander forth on viewless pinions from 

their lair; 
Then my Lady of Light, my Love, whom from 

days of old 
I peered on with passionate yearning and lips 

parched as with fire, 
Withdrew from my vision her lilies of beauty — 

her hair of pale gold, 
And plunged me in midnight of day, consumed 

of desire. 



28 



w SPEAK SOFTLY, BELOVED " 

Speak softly, Beloved, I am hungered for hearing 

thy voice which is filled with dark meaning. 
I will gather the pearls falling down from thy 

lips; 
I will string them together upon threads of gold 

and hang them over my neck ; 
And when sorrow and silence appear and thou 

art away, 
I will tell all the beads like a nun ; 
I will murmur thy jewel-like words till they 

solace my soul : 
So, Beloved, speak only dark and beautiful 

words. 

29 



HE RETURNS AFTER ABSENCE 

As the humming-bird comes to the flame of 

the crimson canna ; 
As the bees to the press, when the juice of 

the grape drips purple; 
So do I, my Beloved, return after tedious 

absence 
To thy lips that are heavy with honey and 

passionate fragrance. 



30 



THE TRYST WITH HIS LOVE 

When the wings of the twilight-legion 

And the ghosts of the sunset pale, 
I float in the nebulous region 

Of a spirit-haunted vale : 
By the marge of the mystical river 

I make of my love a lyre, 
For she is a reed a-quiver, 

And I am the wind, her desire. 



31 



"WHAT SHALL ATONE" 

What shall atone for studious days 
Spent at the Muse's cruel side? 
What recompense wilt thou provide 
For labor sore in making lays — 
One of thy wreathed bays, 
Calliope ? 

Think of the long nights spent with thee, 
When other men were glad with wine, 

With woman's love they deemed divine, 

While I was lone as islands be 
Within a sailless sea, 
Calliope ! 

32 



Would any wreath thou couldst bestow- 
Albeit all wreaths of thine are vain — 

Repay for half this life-long pain ? 

Thy laurels for some happier brow; 
I need not laurels now, 
Calliope. 

Still wear to me thine ancient frown ; 

Be heartless, as thou wast of old, 
And yield me neither rest nor gold ; 
I scorn thy proffer of renown, 

For Death, too, brings a crown, 
Calliope ! 



33 



"SADLY SHE SITS UPON HER 
DAZZLING THRONE" 

Not the close friendship of the closest friends, 

Nor wealth descending on her golden wings ; 

Titles nor honor, — no ephemeral things, — 
Can, for the lack of her, e'er make amends. 
She will not stoop to sublunary ends 

Nor touch the baubles which the base world 
brings ; 

Her song unpurchasable still she sings, 
And all her soul upon the singing spends. 
She treads her constellated paths alone 

Sandaled with starry aspirations bright, 
34 



Beyond the visions of this world — how far! 
Sadly she sits upon her dazzling throne 
In fading splendor like a lingering star 

That pales at sunrise in the wastes of light! 



35 



"COME, LET US LIE ON THE 
HILLS" 

Come, O my love, let us lie on the hills as 
the clouds of the evening are crumbling 
to amethyst dust. 

Now the pinions of twilight are over the vale 
and the woodlands grow dim in the dell. 

Lo, thy hair, — let it fall o'er thy lily-white 
arm like the strings of a lyre, 

And a wind from the meadows of Eros shall 
sigh through the chords, 

And at last thou wilt yield, — thou wilt com- 
fort thy lover with love; 
36 



Thou wilt know that the wind is his soul 

that is longing and wasting away for 

thy sweetness adored ; 
Oh, at last — at the last — thou wilt yield! 
Come! let us lie on the hills side by side 

as the embers of evening are crumbling 

to ashes away. 



37 



HE TELLS WHEN HER SPIRIT 
IS FAIREST 

Thy spirit suits not with the garish hour; 

Too delicate thy cloistral bloom ; 
Thou, like some austral orchid flower, 

Unfold'st thy beauty but in gloom : 

Fair in the morn, — but lovelier far, Sweetheart, 
In thy dim chamber's hushed lamp-light: 

O Love ! the hyacinth itself thou art — 
Most fragrant at the dead of night. 



38 



"LO, THOU SITTEST ENTHRONED " 

Lo, thou sittest enthroned on thy rolling 

cloud, 
As aloft are lifted in scorn thine inscrutable 

eyes ; 
Not deigning to look on thy lover, low 

bowed, 
As in silence enforced, all despairing he 

lies. 
O look down from thy white rolling throne 

in the skies ; 
Lift, O Spirit, thy lover aloft to the cloud 

round thee curled ; 

39 



With thy harp teach his soul how to solace 

the sighs, 
And to drop Song in showers all over the 

world. 



40 



"ANGEL OF PEACE!" 

Drowsy thou liest on thy poppied bed 
Inamorata of the realms of air! 
Goddess or queen or spirit, passing fair, 
Rise from thy slumberous pillow where 
is spread 
In lustrous darkness round thy starry head 
The wondrous wealth of thine ethereal hair- 
Still whisper to me from thy dusky lair 
Or Atropos shall cut the silver thread! 
Clear source and fountain of my fleeting lays, 
Angel of peace, and saint that comforteth, 
Thy lips were on my mouth — I drew thy 
breath — 

41 



Thine arms enwrapt me through thy shadowy 
ways, — 
O thou divine consoler of my days 
Be near me in the darkness after death! 



42 



"THE MILLION LILIES OF GOLD" 

The million lilies of gold that bloom in the blue 
1 will gather and place at your beautiful feet; 
And the delicate shallop that sails in the after- 
glow — 

Silver and slender and sweet — 
Shall anchor in daffodil pools to be nearer to you ; 
While her sister, the lamp of the gloaming, swaying 
low 

In vaults of the orange sky 
Shall pause a-pant with delight; 
And when you are nigh 
In the night, 
The censers unseen 

43 



That carry the breath of the perfumed air 
Swaying in moonlit spaces afar, 
Shall wave an impalpable wing 
With odor of roses around you their Queen ; 
And about you forever the darkest thing 
Shall still be a star; 
And the Genii shall take the cloud of your dim 
sweet hair 

As a mist afloat in the morn, 
And cast it over the helpless hearts of men — 

Over serf, over king, 
And the bridegroom shall turn from the bride 
nor think she is fair — 
Shall desert her and desire you again ; 
And I, who loved you before I was born, 
Shall love you forever and die of despair. 



44 



A LAST WORD TO THE LADY 
OF HIS LOVE 

When this passionate heart is placed at last 

upon Love's own pyre, 
And the wraith of it, incense-like, ascends 

to the twilight sky, 
Take the words I whispered once on a time, 

O soul of my soul's desire, 
And croon them low on the violet banks 

where we were wont to lie. 



45 



AT THY DEAR FEET 

As some stray carrier-pigeon onward hies 
O'er alien spire and dim cathedral dome, 
With weakening pinions that reluctant roam 

Athwart the blank, inhospitable skies ; 

Famished and faint, with eager, yearning eyes, 
Whirled by the wind above the mad sea foam, 
Till, at the last, outworn, he gains his home, 

Falls at his mistress' feet, content, and dies: 

So unto thee, sweet Spirit of all Song, 
Weak and full weary with world-wanderings, 
We wing the trackless deserts of our sky; 

Truant to thee, O Poesy, too long, 

46 



We reach thy feet at last with bleeding wings, 
And fain would nestle near thy heart to die! 



47 



« AND WHEN AT LAST THE 
PORTALS LOOM" 

O Spirit of the lustrous Nine, 
Who art the fountain of my lays, 
The source of all the rapturous days 

That radiant come to me, 
Through all this minstrel life of mine 
Desert me not, O thou divine 

Mnemosyne ! 

Mnemosyne ! 

And when at last the portals loom, 
When I shall drink Death's drowsy wine 
48 



And long-loved valleys must resign — 

Blue peak, and sky, and sea — 
When darkly sinks the pall of doom 
Oh, be thou with me through the gloom 

Mnemosyne ! 

Mnemosyne! 



4* 



HER LOVER DEFIES THE RAVEN- 
BLACK STEEDS 

Too happy were we, O my Delight! 

For I saw the raven-black Horses afar 
Ramp on the edge of a cloud to-night 

And I feared they were winging to us with 
a curse, 
For the chariot they drew 
Had a place for two ; 
It was sable-plumed like a hearse, 
And stopped by a cloud-like grave : 
Too happy were we, O my Delight . . . 
Look in mine eyes, — need we fear alarms ? . . 
50 



A long wild kiss like the first you gave ! . . 
There ! . . let them come — 
The Horses of Night, 
Let them take us locked in each other's arms ! 



51 



"BESEECH ME NO MORE" 

Beseech me no more, it is in vain, 
O daughters of that which passeth away, 

Whose lips with long kisses enchain, 
Whose blood is as quick as the sap in May, 

Beseech me no more, for there grows 
In the dells of my heart, hidden deep, 

My Lady of Peace, my Delight, my Rose, 
Whose look is as lilies divine 
And whose eyes are as day. 
Do you not see her dim as a cloud on the steep 

Beckoning still as she goes? 
Ah, daughters of that which passeth away, 
52 



I am drawn to the side 
Of my beautiful bride 
Who will hold the cup as I drink her wine ; 
And when I have waded the River of Sleep 

That slips through the Valley of Dreams 
Where nothing is and where everything seems, 
And all is divine, 
She will hold me fast 
As I lie by her side, 
She will fold me at last — at last, 
And I shall be hers, and she will be mine. 



53 



"IMPERIAL INVENTRESS" 

O guardian of the sought-for sacred fire ; 

Mother of splendors springing from the mind ; 
Imperial Inventress, let me find 

Melodious solace great as my desire ! 

Grant me to waken thine impassioned lyre 
To most mellifluous music, and unbind 
The bands of silence ; oh, once more be kind 

E'en unto me, the least among thy choir ! 

O Breath of Godhead, voicing mysteries 
That mortal men, unheeding, seldom hear, 
Fain would my spirit bend a reverent ear 

To feast upon thy heavenly harmonies ! 

54 



Come through the sunset gates, or on the breeze 
Memnonian, murmur to me, spirit clear; 
Breathe solace and dispel this life-long tear 

By mystic music sweeter than the sea's ! 

Give to this essence flaming seraph wings, 
Or burn it, incense-like, to thee and thine, 
Upon thy altar with its purging fire ; 

Strike thou at last from out these trembling strings 
Apocalypses of the inner shrine — 
O Breath of God ! make of my soul thy lyre ! 



55 



"I FEEL THY SPIRIT CALL ME" 

I feel thy Spirit call me from afar; 

And if in silence now these steps I wend, 
This forced aphonia shall not last for long ; 

.Not here, indeed, but in some fairer star, 
Fed from immortal rills, I hope to end 
A life ineloquent, with affluent Song. 



56 



"COME NEARER, MY BELOVED" 

Come nearer, my Beloved, it is night; 
Bend down above my bed thy features mild; 
No wife have I to love, nor tender child — 
Thou wert mine angel, — wilt thou take thy 

flight— 
Thou! with thine eyes of pity infinite, 
And leave me dying and unreconciled ? 
It was the sweetness of thy lips beguiled 
Life of its pang and made the darkness bright 
Oh, lean down nearer — nearer — do not fly — 
Have we not loved each other well and long? 
Leave me not now, my heart — my soul — my 

song — 

57 



Beloved Spirit! Oh to thee I cry, — 
Wrap thy dear arms around me — hold me 

strong — 
Oh, wake me with thy kisses when I die ! 



58 



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